Love Gone Viral

by Meg Napier

  “No notes from me,” Alice replied.

  Meg grinned and leaned forward, and Alice happily accepted her kiss. The temperature seemed to change, and Meg wanted more, but she dared not push Alice, letting her be in charge. Alice mischievously took Meg’s bottom lip between her lips and gently licked it, shocking and delighting her. God, this feels good please don’t stop please let’s keep exploring goodness I feel sixteen all over again—

  The printer beeped loudly, and Alice pulled away, laughing. Meg blushed and didn’t say anything, retreating within herself. Alice looked over at her and placed a hand on her arm.

  “It’s like a chaperone in those teen dramas interrupting their fun,” Alice said in between giggles.

  Still unsure of herself, Meg plastered on a fake smile and headed over to the printer. She took the stack of newly printed fliers from the tray, picking one off the top and examining it. A far cry from the glossy mailings she used to manage, here was a white piece of paper with a neighborly message on it. She was betting on recipients pausing when gathering their mail and taking time to read it and sign their petition.

  She cleared her throat. “No time like the present. Ready to stuff these mailboxes?”

  Alice stood up and stretched like an athlete preparing for a race. “Let’s do this,” she answered emphatically.

  Meg cut the stack of papers in half and handed one pile to Alice. “We’ll fold these in half before dropping them in. Sound good?”

  “Totally. They’ll at least have to unfold it before throwing it away.”

  “Exactly, but let’s hope they don’t.”

  Alice nodded and the pair walked out of the office. After tying on their bandanas, they left Meg’s apartment and headed out, the familiar excitement of community engagement propelling Meg to take this next step.

  Chapter 6

  The next day, Alice couldn’t help but hover over her phone, anxiously awaiting the first email or phone call to come in. She filled the day as best she could. She’d ordered a couple of cloth masks with rainbow motifs. After that, she’d gotten out her flour and proofed some yeast. She was sure that the involved process of baking focaccia would turn her mind towards kneading and rising and away from the ambitious plan or the woman that had propelled her on this path.

  The ache in her arms settled in like a well-worn sweater as she covered a large red bowl in plastic wrap and set a timer for one hour. Alice couldn’t remember the last time she’d baked for her own enjoyment. There always were customers to be fed, and aside from tasting the final product, Alice rarely got to enjoy the fruits, or rather carbs, of her labor. Satisfied, she quickly scraped the excess dough from her hands and placed the bowl in the oven so the dough could rise in a temperature-controlled environment.

  With an hour to kill, Alice surveyed her apartment. She hadn’t been blind to Meg’s organized apartment and how calm things seemed to be. Though her visits had been few, she liked Meg’s environment and figured she could try to copy that as best she could.

  As she straightened her couch and made her bed, Alice turned her thoughts back to Meg. Had it been right to kiss her? It had seemed so at the time. She hadn’t wanted to be pushy, but she had wanted to at least try. To say she was relieved that Meg hadn’t instantly pushed her away would be a dramatic understatement. Now she wondered if it was wishful thinking to imagine a chance to kiss again.

  Her phone pinged, and she launched herself to the side of her bed where it was charging. An email alert from the address on the flier glared back at her. She opened it up and read the following message:

  “I have been a resident of Glenwood for six years and have always been happy here. They’ve treated me fairly. I’m disappointed that they aren’t interested in easing the costs for their loyal residents. What can I do to help? Regards, Rick.”

  As soon as she finished reading the email, she received a text from Meg: “The first response is always the most exciting.”

  “Did you read it?” Alice replied.

  “Of course. We don’t want to wait too long to reply to him. After you left yesterday, I worked up a draft of our petition. Would love to show it to you.”

  Alice grinned widely at the use of “our” in Meg’s text. They were a team, a fact that she still sometimes couldn’t believe. Of all the people to bump into, Alice had lucked out. She typed, “Sounds great. I’ll head over shortly.”

  Meg sent back, “Could I come by? Would love to visit you.”

  She chewed on her lower lip and looked around her apartment. The sliding glass door provided a decent amount of light, but the only two places to sit were her couch and her tiny white kitchen table. It wasn’t the most welcoming of places, which was why she didn’t invite people over.

  Still, she’d revealed a lot about herself to Meg already. If she wanted to know the rest, she might as well get a full picture.

  “Building 106, Apartment B. I’ll be here.”

  “See you in a bit!”

  Alice shoved her phone in her back pocket. Thank God I straightened things up, she thought. She glanced at the oven timer and noted that she had fifteen minutes before she needed to check the dough. There was a knock at the door. Alice opened and found herself admiring the way the blue maxi dress flattered Meg’s figure to perfection and how pretty the pink bandana tied around the bottom of her face looked.

  “Did you get into some kind of flour fight?” Meg asked jokingly.

  Alice smiled and let her in, shutting the door behind her. She quickly looked down at her black t-shirt and noticed the white clouds of flour decorating her chest. “Figured I could be useful and dig into some old recipes. I’ve got some focaccia dough rising, so don’t plan on using the kitchen table for a bit.”

  The timer rang. She opened the oven and pulled out the bowl, not forgetting to turn around and start preheating. The dough had risen to twice its size and she took it to the table. “This might get messy, so I suggest you get comfortable on the couch. Sorry it’s not as nice as yours.”

  Meg sat down and pulled out her phone while Alice sprinkled flour on the table and dropped the dough on the pile. As she started kneading, she said, “All right, what’d you have in mind for the petition?” Have you thought about kissing me as much as I’ve thought about kissing you?

  “The best petitions first tell a story, then make a claim, and end with a call to action. Since this was your idea, I figured we’d begin with your reason for starting this and going from there. Would you like to hear what I came up with?”

  “Go for it.” All business today.

  Meg cleared her throat. “‘Like many of us who call Glenwood home, I’ve enjoyed my time here. The service has been good and the leasing office normally has treated us fairly. However, these aren’t normal times, and I personally have been hit hard by this crisis. Thanks to the shelter-in-place order, I have lost my job.

  “‘I did not, however, lose my financial obligations. I still must pay my bills for the goods and services I use, just like everyone else. Now Glenwood has closed the community spaces but still expects us to pay for them. So, in effect, we are getting bills for things we cannot use. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like paying for something I’m not getting. It’s unfair that Glenwood demands we continue to pay the same fees as if things are still business as usual.

  “‘It’s not business as usual. We, the residents of Glenwood, deserve better. We deserve to pay only for what we can use. We the undersigned demand that Glenwood adjust our rent so that we’re only paying for what we can use during quarantine.’”

  By the time Meg finished, the dough was sufficiently worked. Alice gently laid the dough on the baking sheet and started coating it with a liberal amount of olive oil and salt. Much as she admired Meg’s commitment to the work ahead of them, a not-so-small part of her didn’t want to talk about the petition or the unfairness of the position Glenwood was putting them in. She would rather talk about the kiss.

  Perhaps Meg had forgotten about it. Al
ice, however, hadn’t, nor did she want to. Selfishly, she wanted more.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” Meg said. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Not at all.”

  Meg made her way to the small kitchen and washed her hands. “I’ll have to invest in a lot more hand cream with all this handwashing. What do you think of the petition?”

  “Hang on, let me stick this in the oven.”

  Meg moved out of the way while Alice opened the oven door and placed the baking sheet on the center rack. After setting the timer for thirty minutes, she turned and leaned against the small white counter.

  I don’t want to talk about the petition; I want to know if you think of me differently because of the kiss. “It sounds fine. You’re the expert, after all. Whatever you think works.”

  Meg slowly nodded. “All right then. There’s an online tool we can use to collect signatures. I’ll make it so that respondents will have to put their apartment numbers with their signatures so that the leasing office takes it seriously. I’ll also ensure that you have access to it and that it stays private until we’re ready to make it public.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Meg put down her phone and asked, “Is something wrong?”

  Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask don’t—

  Alice couldn’t stop the question. “Should I not have kissed you yesterday?”

  Meg shifted uncomfortably on her feet, which told Alice all she needed. But then she took a breath. “I’m glad you kissed me, Alice. I hope you’re happy that I kissed you back. Please forgive me; I’m not used to talking about this sort of thing with anyone.”

  Alice looked up from the dishes she had begun to wash.

  Meg continued. “People in my generation don’t talk about this. We were told it was improper. But please believe me when I tell you that I would very much like for what happened yesterday to happen again, sooner rather than later.”

  “The mailbox stuffing?” Alice knew she was being stubborn, but she was determined to make Meg say it in clear, precise words.

  Meg blushed and Alice watched her full cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. “The kissing,” she whispered.

  “You don’t need to say it like it’s something to be ashamed of,” Alice retorted, drying her hands.

  “I’m not ashamed of it. I’m still getting used to this. These are things I never even talked about with my husband.”

  Whoa. A husband! She needed time to think about this.

  Alice took a deep breath. “Thank you for coming by and sharing the petition draft with me. I’ll keep you posted if anyone else responds to it and send it to them. How many signatures should we get before going public?”

  “With 138 units, getting one hundred unique signatures would be a healthy majority of residents.”

  “Fair enough.” Alice walked over to her phone on the charger and saw that five more emails had come into the shared email address. “We’ve got a couple more people who’ve written in, so I’ll get started on replying to them.”

  “Okay,” Meg said weakly. With a sigh of resignation, she tucked her phone in her purse and picked up the bandana. “The bread smells fantastic, by the way.”

  Alice muttered a thank-you and didn’t look up as Meg closed the door.

  Charlie sat at her table, sipping tea. “Knitting a scarf with all that wool you were gathering?”

  She sighed. “That’s the trouble. It’s all a mess up here,” she said, pointing at her temple.

  “Candidate trouble?”

  “Worse. Girl trouble.”

  “Oh. Well, you know I’m hopeless with that.”

  Meg lifted one corner of her mouth. “And yet you had all sorts of ladies chasing after you.”

  “You know I disappointed them all.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “I’m mixing the personal with the professional.”

  “That’s not like you.”

  “Exactly, but here’s the thing: the professional part is something I’m doing pro bono.”

  “Interesting. Who’s the client?”

  She spread out her arms. “All of us. I bumped into this woman, literally in fact, who wants the leasing office to change their terms about residents still having to pay for the shared spaces even though they’re closed.”

  “Legally, they don’t have to change anything about their fee structure.”

  “I know they don’t have to, but it isn’t fair to make renters carry the cost if they can’t use the spaces.”

  Charlie nodded. “Makes sense, but the property management company is still responsible for the upkeep of those spaces.”

  “Please take off your lawyer hat and put on your best friend hat.”

  He chuckled. “I practiced for almost forty years. That hat is glued on tightly. Anyway, let me guess: you wanted to flex your old organizing muscle and try to make a change right in your backyard. Along the way, you fell for the hopeful young person who started it all.”

  Meg pursed her lips. “I didn’t fall for her.”

  “Sure, and you’re not blushing, either.”

  Meg swished her hand in dismissal. “It’s not like that. Not really, I don’t think. I have tools and experience at my disposal and offered to help. You know how it is: one person can’t change all that much, but an army with a united message can.”

  “Look, I have no doubt whatever you’ve got planned will work. You’re a words warrior and I’d hate to be your opponent in the messaging arena. That’s not what’s bothering you. You’re bothered because for the first time, someone’s thrown you off-balance and you are welcoming it.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Does she make you happy?”

  “That’s no one else’s responsibility but my own.”

  “That’s hardly what I mean. When you’re with her, are you happy more than not?”

  Meg stared into her tea. Until this morning, every interaction with Alice had been a spark of color in an otherwise grey existence. Just because she didn’t know how to talk about that side of herself didn’t mean it didn’t exist.

  Charlie rose from the table, placed his mug in the sink, and washed and dried his hands. He returned and put his large hand on her shoulder. “I can’t believe I have to say this to the communications queen, but say what you mean. You of all people deserve happiness. If this young lady brings you that, it would be foolish not to tell her.”

  Meg reached up and squeezed his hand. “Do you have a mask, at-risk friend of mine?”

  “I ordered a couple and have been making do by tying this thing around my face.” He pointed to his scarf.

  “I’m sure the neighborhood ladies are disappointed.”

  “They’ll live. Tell her how you feel, Meg. It’s about time you relaxed and enjoyed life.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Be safe, Charlie.”

  “You as well,” he replied, shutting the door behind him.

  Chapter 7

  April 2020

  “Alice, when that last order gets picked up, come and take a break,” Mike called out from down the bar.

  Walking over and turning on the neon “Closed” sign, she locked the door and headed towards Mike’s tiny office, dragging one of the bar stools with her.

  Her tall, hefty, bearded boss was leaning back in his office chair, his Maryland flag mask on his chin. Alice set the chair a little outside the office door. “Numbers looking good?”

  Mike sighed and said gruffly, “The quarter’s projections are completely shot, but if we stay the course, we might make it through. I hate taking things week by week, but it’s what we have to do.”

  “Anyway, how’ve you been holding up? I can tell something’s different about you.”

  Alice looked away and frowned. “This was a setback, sure, but I don’t blame you at all.”

  “I’m not talking about the job, though clearly you needed to get busy. You’ve always been a vital part of the team, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you throw you
rself into work like this.”

  Anything to keep my head out of itself. “Then what are you talking about?”

  Mike folded his hands across his barrel chest. “You’ve got that look.”

  “What look?”

  “The look that any man gets when he’s trying his best not to moon over a woman.”

  “Except I’m not a man.”

  “No, but you’re human and I know what lovesick looks like. Don’t think for a second I can’t recognize when someone’s going through relationship problems.”

  “I’m not in a relationship,” she muttered.

  “You want to be, and she’s got to be special for you to make these paninis as quickly as you did this morning.”

  Alice stared wide-eyed at him. “How do you know it’s a woman, anyway?”

  “The rainbow mask is kind of a giveaway.”

  She reached up and tugged on her mask. “I’m sorry I never said anything, Mike.”

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s none of my business. As long as you’re happy and helping me steer this crazy ship, I’m all set.”

  Alice lowered her head into her hands. “That’s the problem. I’m not happy.”

  “Tell me how you spent this last month.”

  Instead of clamming up like she usually did, she unloaded, telling Mike about running into Meg and cooking up the idea that they could get the leasing office to change its policy. She told him about how insightful Meg was, how she seemed to have the right trick up her sleeve all the time. She told him about the fliers and the mailboxes and even the kiss.

  Mike slowly nodded. “And you said she’s older, right?”

  “What does her age have to do with anything?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe nothing, but I’m no spring chicken—”

  “Mike, come on,” Alice interrupted, looking back up at him.

  “Look, I’m in my mid-fifties. Things were different back then. Not just the big stuff, but the little stuff also. People didn’t talk about feelings or therapy or anything like that. While it’s not an excuse, I’d bet a thousand bucks that this lady doesn’t know how to talk about how she feels.”